


Mission Impossible: Two Face

by 1000lux



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible Fallout
Genre: Alternate Ending, Getting Together, M/M, Post Movie, walker is undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-08 22:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17395040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: When the choppers crash in the mountains, things go a bit different."It would have all been a lot easier if we'd actually worked together, back then." Ethan said ruefully.Walker smiled equally rueful. "Ah, but for that we would have had to trust each other. Or at least Hunley and Sloane would have had to trust each other. You'd think at least the CIA and the IMF would be able to work together. But," He threw up his hands. "No dice."





	Mission Impossible: Two Face

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to the movies or it's characters.

"How close was it?" Benji asked.

"As usual."

*

[ 2 HOURS EARLIER ]

The chopper crashed down where Ethan's had overturned several times, only moments earlier.

Walker crawled out of the wreckage, an expression of distinct distaste on his face.

"Goddamn it, Hunt. Does everything always have to be such a fucking production with you?"

Ethan snorted, putting his fists up. "I guess it does."

Walker pulled out the detonator, taking a look at the countdown. "Three minutes to go." Then he threw it at Ethan.

Ethan caught it more by reflex than anything, frantically scanning the surroundings and Walker for the concealed weapon that must surely be there. "What?!"

Walker shrugged, looking at him quizzically. "I told you, in the basement with Lane, that it was an undercover mission."

"You killed Hunley!" Ethan exclaimed exasperated.

"Oh, he died?" There was a vague expression of remorse on Walker's face. "I tried not to hit an artery. Well, couldn't be helped. I mean, you had to be the smartest in the room again, didn't you? We could have all gotten out of there alive, if you'd let me do my job."

"That– That was colleteral damage?!"

"Whatever it takes. That's why I do my job and you do yours. And after I'd such proven my loyalty to him and given that Lark didn't plan to be around any longer, he gave me the means to contact one of the Apostles. Through him I'll get to the others."

Ethan stared at him speechless. "Wait, you could have killed me! You fucking tried to shoot down my chopper!"

Walker smiled sardonically. "Somehow I knew you'd survive. I mean, hey, it had to look convincing."

"Convincing for whom?!"

Walker rolled his eyes. "Convincing for Lane. There were cameras in the choppers and he has his own detonator."

"What?! There's a second detonator?!"

"Don't worry, disabling this one suffices. And if your little friends haven't taken down Lane by now, it's too late anyway. By the way, I think it's time you tell them to deactivate the bombs." Walker said.

Ethan checked his intercom. "I'm getting no signal."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Now it was Walker's turn to look dumbfounded. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"I'm sure they'll handle it."

"So..." Walker stared at him incredulously. "Now we wait?"

Ethan nodded stoically. "Now we wait."

They stood in terse silence.

"So..." Ethan started, "You really wrote the manifesto?"

"Yep." Walker nodded, staring into the distance where they were waiting for the the telltale mushroom cloud. "I mean, they aren't wrong as it concerns the state of our government... But the killing of innocents really isn't the way to go."

Ethan stared at him bewildered. "Okay...Good to know you agree... So, you've been on this mission for, what? Two years?"

"Five." Walker replied briskly. "They knew there would be remnants of his organisation once he was taken down. It would have been suspicious if Lark started popping up the moment Lane was arrested."

"But–But they didn't even know about the Syndicate!"

"Oh, they did know. Not any specifics, but sooner or later they would capture someone."

Ethan squinted at him. "So, you were preparing for a hypothetical case in the unspecific future?"

Walker spread his arms, smiling. "That's what we do, isn't it, Hunt?" His smile turned strained. "Talking about what we do." He stalked back to the wreck that still remained in the snow behind them. "It looks like your friends were successful in disarming the bomb. Well, my mission would have continued in either case."

Ethan followed to see Walker rip out one of the ruptured tanks.

"Careful," Ethan started. "That's– Oh God!" He stared on as Walker poured a flush of it over the side of his head.

Walker let out a hiss of pain. "As I said, that's the job." He smiled through gritted teeth. "After all, I believe in the cause and only succumbed after you nearly killed me." He snorted. "Trust, too, is build through suffering. And the greater the suffering the greater the trust. You have no idea," He let out a harsh breath, his mouth twisting. "what I've done, to build up my Lark persona. Well, some of the things you do know. And now that Lane is dead, I finally have a chance. And even now... Even now he only trusted me enough with one of the names."

"We... we can go back together. Hunt down the person and they'll lead us to the rest."

"Nah." Walker smirked. "I simply only trust myself with the job. You know how it is. I work best alone. But, you should consider yourself lucky. You're one of two people alive who know I'm on this mission." He walked towards the cliff.

"Are you...?" Ethan looked between Walker and the cliff.

"Don't worry, someone will come and pick me up. And, remember, I'm dead." He stopped for a moment, looking back at Ethan. "But, what he said... I do wonder, have you ever turned down a mission? I haven't." He jumped off the cliff, roping down the cliff-side to the helicopter wreck.

Ethan stared after him. "Good God!"

*

"Madame."

"Hunt." Erica Sloane greeted him. "It's good to see you." She sat down beside his bed, leaning closer than was necessary. "They didn't find a body."

"There wasn't one to find."

"I take it then, Agent Walker is still active?"

Ethan nodded wearily. Then he looked at her angrily. "When we– when we called you, why didn't you just tell us?!"

Now it was her turn to look angry. "Lane was right there with you. Had I confirmed Walker's mission status, his cover would have been blown. We all have Hunley's blood on our hands, so don't you dare giving me these accusatory looks."

"But... But why didn't you just give the mission to Walker alone, to begin with?"

"Agent Hunt, are you seriously asking me why you couldn't just stay out of something? When has the IMF ever just stayed out of something?"

*

[ ONE YEAR LATER ]

Ethan grabbed for the phone, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Yes?" He fell back onto his bed, blurrily checking the clock. 4.02 am.

"Hunt."

"Walker?!" Ethan bolted upright. "How– How's it going?"

"It's going."

"How's the face?"

"A mess."

"Do you..." Ethan sqinted against sleep and confusion. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Not really." Walker still sounded too suave for a guy undercover in hell. It was the rooftop somewhere over Paris all over again. "Well, I guess you could do me a favor."

"Uh-huh." 

"Your little friend Dunn found something that could get me in trouble. Be so good and delete it."

"What exactly did he find?"

"Not important."

"It is to me."

An exagerated sigh on the other end of the line. 

"Be honest, Hunt. You did wonder over time if I played you and you should have killed me on that mountain side." There was amusement in the other's voice.

"The thought may have crossed my mind. I dismissed it. What I'm really wondering is, what you'd be willing to do to complete your mission. What your allegiance is, isn't in question."

"Hunley trusted you, because he knew you could never sacrifice the life of one for many. Sloane trusts me, because she knows I can."

"That's what worries me."

"Then maybe you should hang up now."

"No. What do you need?"

*

"I got a name for you." the voice at the other end of the line said.

"What?!" Ethan was up and on his feet.

"Yep. Finally."

Ethan scribbled down the intel Walker had given him.

"Oh, and Hunt. Have fun." A slight chuckle in the other's voice.

"Hey! Wait! Walker. How can I reach you?"

"You can't." A pause. "Why would you need to reach me?"

"I don't know."

"To check up on me?" There was an eyeroll even in the words. Humoring. Amused.

"Maybe. Making sure you haven't gone rogue."

"As far as I'm concerned it's you who goes rogue."

"Only with really good reason." Ethan chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sure. Take care, Hunt."

The line went dead.

*

[TWO MONTHS LATER]

"Hunt." Ethan mumbled, only semi-awake.

"What are you wearing?" came the shit-eating voice.

"Walker?" the reproach was marred by the incredulous chuckle that threatened to bubble up. "What can I do for you? And for the record, I'm wearing nothing because I was asleep and it's over thirty degrees outside."

"Good to know."

"So, what did you need."

"Oh, no. This is a social call."

"Is it?"

"Aw, Hunt. There I thought we were friends now."

"I doubt that that's what you thought."

"No 'Rivalling agents with questionable agendas to lovers'-trope for us?"

"What?"

"Admit it. It's appealing. And I thought you like to get friendly with your partners."

"They're usually women."

"Really? That particular, Hunt?"

"No. Not really."

"Ah. Then it's the mustache."

Ethan laughed. "Yes. That's it. Are we really having this conversation?"

"Just bet myself how long I could continue this."

"You must be pretty bored."

"I got dinner in the microwave. Ten minutes are too long for idle waiting."

Indeed, anything could happen in ten minutes and the two of them never waited idly or otherwise.

"Judging from the time difference you're somewhere in the Netherlands." Ethan then said.

"Or I just have dinner at strange times. Ah, but Ethan, now you've also given your position away."

"Well, we're on the same side. Right?"

"Yep. Either that or unhealthy sleep patterns."

*

[ 11 MONTHS LATER ]

Ethan had his gun out before he even turned on the light. "Oh."

"Hey." Walker didn't bother to pull out his gun from where he was sitting at Ethan's kitchen table. Well, not Ethan's kitchen table. The table in the kitchen of the safehouse Ethan was standing in right now.

He hadn't seen Walker since Kashmir, despite the numerous phone calls and one time from afar in Vienna when Ethan for the first time in his life had actually botched a mission so they didn't catch Walker. "How did you know I'm here?" Strange to see a man in person, were months of careless banter and disturbingly personal conversations over the phone had given the impression of closeness. He'd gotten used to being Walker's emotional support person over the months. The other had bothered less and less to even give the impression of an actual reason behind his calls.

Walker shrugged. "I'm keeping tabs on you."

Disconcerting, but okay. "What do you need?"

Walker frowned, looking tired all of a sudden, exhausted, his large frame seeming to deflate where he sat slouched in the chair. He shrugged again. "Being myself for a bit?" he then offered.

Ethan sat down as well. "That bad, huh?" He didn't ask whether Walker seriously had risked blowing his own cover just to come here. He'd done so, so it had obviously been necessary. He hadn't known Walker to be affected by the job, or anything for that matter. But then, he had done terrible things as John Lark, was doing terrible, unspeakable things right now. He'd already delivered them three of the Apostles too. Ethan's team didn't know how they had found them, still assumed Ethan had figured it out himself, each time.

Walker shrugged weakly. "You can get used to anything. I've been doing it for some time. But never... fulltime."

"But your cover's safe?"

The laugh Walker gave was ugly and disgusted. "As safe as it'll ever be. You saw the news." He spun his empty scotch glass on the table and Ethan realised he must have had a few of those before he came home. "The things we do for peace, huh?" Walker went on. "It's ironic, but it seems to me I'm doing exactly what I wrote in the manifesto. I'm killing a few people to protect many more. Only I'm doing it sanctioned by the government, so that makes it okay, I guess." He snorted.

Ethan didn't say 'You're doing the right thing', because honestly he wasn't sure Walker was doing the right thing. Only knew that they'd never gotten as close to the Apostles as Walker had. After Walker had taken out the first of them, Ethan had tried. For eight months he and his entire team had done nothing but try and track down the other Apostles based on the one they knew. They had come up with nothing and soon other things had been more important again and they'd been moved off the case. So he knew that what Walker was doing was horrible and that he wouldn't do it if he'd been tasked with the same job. But he also knew that no one but Walker was able to do it. So maybe Walker had been right, with what he'd said back then. "What you said about Hunley and Sloane..."

"You gotta be more specific." Walker drawled, and only for a moment you could actually hear how drunk he was. Ethan had had many jobs where he'd felt he was pretty bad off, but at least he'd never been at the point where he had to break into a fellow agent's safehouse just to get wasted.

"I always felt like my way was the only way. But... when my way's not working, I guess all we have is your way."

Walker laughed. "Is that supposed to cheer me up?"

"I didn't think you actually cared." Ethan said without thinking only to realise that it had been a mistake.

Walker snorted hollowly. "About killing dozens of innocents? Yeah, sure, I mean I don't think too hard about colleteral damage, because if you start doing that, you're dead. I mean, you're not dead, but, like, normal people would be. I wasn't trained to care. But when the numbers are going up, Ethan, imagine that, it starts taking a toll on you." He absentmindedly rubbed the seam where his healthy skin went over into the angry scar, on the right side of his face, the border running from brow ridge to cheekbone to where the corner of his mouth just now turned into a frown.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Walker replied with self-irony. "My reputation precedes me. And you experienced it first-hand."

"It would have all been a lot easier if we'd actually worked together, back then." Ethan said ruefully.

Walker smiled equally rueful. "Ah, but for that we would have had to trust each other. Or at least Hunley and Sloane would have had to trust each other. You'd think at least the CIA and the IMF would be able to work together. But," He threw up his hands. "No dice."

"So we are both trapped in repeating the past mistakes. And the cycle continues."

"So you did read my manifesto."

"I did."

"It's true, what I wrote about the government, but anarchy isn't the solution."

"You were also right about us dousing fires that will break out again and again."

"I can't think of a solution, though. Humans err. You can't put them in charge and expect them to make decisions based on anything but their own greed. But you can't put no one in charge either."

"That's a terribly bleak view."

"We have a terribly bleak job, Ethan. We glue the pieces back together where people's nice, perfect world rips at the seams. So they can sleep at night and continue to believe that everything will be alright. Do you sleep at night, Ethan? I don't."

"I do. I agree with you... a lot of things aren't the way they should be. But still, we save lifes. If it's just one or if it's many, those people get to live another day and that's making the world better."

"But I don't save lifes. Even before. I'm a killer."

"You do. Because of your position we know at any time what they plan. You've already taken out three of them, only nine to go. This is a long game, but sometimes you have to play a long game. When this is over you'll know that you saved all the people they won't get a chance to kill any longer."

"Yeah, okay." Walker replied, pouring himself another drink.

"What's going on? You were fine the last time I saw you."

"You mean back when I disfigured myself and jumped off a mountain-side? Yeah, I was in a really good place back then." He toasted to Ethan and chugged down the to-the-rim-filled glass.

"You know what I mean. It didn't seem to affect you like that."

"I wasn't leading that whole fucking freakshow, back then. I was playing at it. Now I'm the one who writes the fucking rule book. I might not technically be leading them, but it's my vision Lane wanted them to follow, now that he's gone. Do you know what that means? And I gotta be convincing or they'll never trust me enough for me to get all their identities. I mean, no, they trust me. I mean, you can imagine how convincing I was when Lane considered me his legacy." Another of those angry and tired chuckles. "But for security reasons identity is need-to-know basis. Which is actually quite reasonable. But it also means I need to find a precedent for each of them, to meet them. And I can't take them out right after I know, or they'll become suspicious. Right now I know the names of two more apostles. But I can't tell you. I won't be able to tell you for another couple months. Maybe a year. I have to wait until I know the next name so there's no pattern. So the next one thinks if it had anything to do with that meeting he would be dead too." Walker stopped his flood of words to actually take a breath again.

"If you need to–"

"I'm not calling off the mission. We don't quit, you and me, Ethan. That's nothing we do."

Later on the bottle was empty and Ethan half dragged the other over to his bed. Walker slept like dead long into the next morning. And Ethan sat there and watched this thoroughly worn-thin man, wondering if that was what he looked like at times. Wondering what exactly a human being could take, before they broke. He thought back on his own life that was a long line of nearly dying, being disavowed and ending up in some non-descripts prison, all over the world. Walker was younger than him, but still Ethan was sure that the other had been asked to do things that were worse than what Ethan had done. Ethan was called to do impossible things. Walker was called to do things that were just plain bad. The hammer and the scalpel. He'd killed people too, a lot of them. But it rarely was the main objective of what he was asked to do. His missions most often entailed the prospect of dying himself. But there wasn't all that much moral ambiguity in it. He always knew he was the good guy. What if he didn't have that any longer? What would he do then? What would that make of him?

"You been watching me sleep?" Walker asked huskily, from where his face was still half-buried in the pillow. "How fucked-up is that?" The snort was muffled.

"Just making sure you don't kill me in my sleep. Or choke on your own puke."

"Fuck, I don't know when I last had a hangover... Do you have... breakfast? Or a saline infusion?"

"I actually have a saline infusion."

Walker gave him a thumbs-up. "Life-saver."

Ethan snorted. "Pussy." But went to get it anyway.

*

Walker stayed the day. Ethan got them take-out for something that was technically breakfast but too late, and Walker spent the day mostly napping, between conversations about Ethan's recent missions and completely mundane shit like what kind of chocolate they liked.

"Not that I'm complaining," Ethan said the next morning, as Walker made scrambled eggs like it was actually his kitchen. "But, do you have to be somewhere?"

"Nope." Walker shook his head. "I don't have to be anywhere."

"Where do your people think you are?"

"'My people' don't have any business thinking about what I do. As for the remaining Apostles, I like them to know as little about me as I know about them. Or did you mean Sloane? She doesn't know where I am either, unless I tell her."

"Okay." Ethan poured himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip and frowned in surprise. "This is better than the one I make."

Walker didn't look up from his eggs, but his voice was smug. "I know."

*

"What are you doing there?" Ethan asked later during the afternoon.

"Origami." Walker replied preoccupied.

"Yes. I can see that. Why?"

"It calms me."

"You need calming sometimes?" Ethan asked, only half in jest. "The guy who jumped into a thunderstorm?"

Walker simply raised an eyebrow, finished his folding and handed Ethan a paper daffodil, no inflection to his expression, as if he'd just handed him another round for his riffle.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Ethan asked, taken off guard.

Walker shrugged. "I don't know. I just like making them. Doesn't mean I want that stuff lying around."

*

He stayed for three more days. Which at some point had them both sitting on the bed, watching TV, and Walker leaning over to kiss him. Like they were both teenagers. Extremely lethal and world-weary teenagers. That wasn't exactly the end of Walker's visit. The visit ended two days later, at which point they'd slept with each other three times. It ended with Ethan coming back from grocery shopping to find Walker on the phone, dressed in the clothes in which he'd arrived.

"Well, at least you didn't just leave without a word." Ethan said after Walker'd hung up.

"Aw, would I do that?" Walker smirked. He got up and made his way to the door. "By the way, thanks for saving my life over Paris."

"Now? Really?"

Walker just made a hat tipping gesture, then he was out the door.

*

[ ONE YEAR LATER]

Will entered the room. "Okay. Briefing. Over the past three years we managed to get most of the apostles. We still don't know the identities of the last two, but as far as we're concerned it's save to say Walker's taken over Lane's position as head of the organisation. That means from now on he's our new main objective."

"Why, All of a sudden?" Ethan asked, trying not to show his shock.

"Erica Sloane was found dead. Walker is assumed to be connected to the killing. Both IMF and CIA are throwing together their ressources. Wherever he is, we'll hunt him down."

*

"Ethan, I have a problem."

"Yeah, I just got the news."

"With Erica gone, you are my only link back now."

"Are you– Are you coming back?"

"I took out the last of the Apostles two months ago. I contacted Erica and was waiting to hear back from her. I didn't. Then two weeks ago I found out she'd been killed."

"I'll... I'll talk to Will."

"I heard he'd made Secretary of the IMF. Give him my congrats."

Ethan snorted. "Will do." He fell silent. "We'll get you back home, August. I promise."

Walker chuckled. "I believe you. That's why I called."

"And because I'm the only one who knows."

"And because of that."

*

"Guys," Ethan started. "I need to tell you something. Walker is actually one of the good guys."

"What?!" Benji, Luther and Will stared at him equally flabbergasted.

Will spoke first. "You realise he's currently leading the most powerful terrorist origanization worldwide?!"

"He's undercover."

"And you know that how?"

"Back then... in Kashmir... I didn't take the detonator from him. He gave it to me."

"What– Why?" Benji looked at him, brows drawn together. "Why did you never say anything? Three years, and you never said a word?! We're your friends!"

"Yes, you are. That's why I'm telling you now. I had to protect him. If any of you'd gotten captured and tortured at some point. It was too dangerous. And unlike me, Walker doesn't have friends. That's why we need to help him."

"Seems to me he has one." Will muttered under his breath, then sighed, rubbing his face. "I believe you, Ethan. You know I do. But, if Sloane had had anything written down on that, someone'd have found it by now. We have nothing but your word to go by. And while that is good enough for me, it certainly isn't good enough for the CIA."

"So what?" Ethan stared at him. "Is he supposed to spend the rest of his life as the head of a terrorist organisation? Or maybe run from his organisation and the CIA?"

*

"Okay, August, listen. You give us a time and a place and we'll take down the rest of your people. We'll take you into custody too. Just the IMF, the CIA won't be involved in this."

He could practically see Walker raise his eyebrow on the other end of the line. "And then?"

Ethan frowned. "And then... we'll... I'm still working that part out. But, we'll keep you save. Will will handle the CIA, he's good at that stuff."

Silence on the other end of the line. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I trust you."

*

Will pulled the hood from his face, smiling tersely. "Welcome to the IMF, Agent Walker."

"Hi again." Benji waved awkwardly from the side.

Walker rolled his shoulders, smiling wrily at the cuffs at his hands and feet. "Well, I'm still alive. Ethan did a good job so far. Where is he, by the way?"

"I'm here." Ethan stepped into his field of vision, kneeling down to unlock the cuffs around his feet and subsquently those around his hands, something that no one else had seemed comfortable enough to do, so far. They shared a quick look of Walker regarding him questioningly and Ethan giving an apologetic shrug.

"So," Walker started briskly, remaining seated as it seemed he made everyone uncomfortable enough as it was. "What happens next?"

Will spoke. "Officially you were never taken into custody. We keep you hidden until I can figure out how to untangle that clusterfuck." He cleared his throat as if slightly embarrassed by his language.

*

Walker followed Ethan. "So where exactly will I be 'hidden'? Cell in some unregistered max sec prison?" He smiled lopsidedly, the scarred skin on the right side of his face twisting, making the expression look more sinister.

"No, of course not. You'll stay with me."

Raised eyebrow in polite doubt. "With you?"

"Yeah. We'll hole up in one of my safe houses... The guys... They–"

"Want you to keep an eye on me." Walker finished for him, slightly amused, slightly weary.

"Yeah."

Walker shrugged. "Okay."

"Look, if they didn't believe you are innocent, they wouldn't be helping me."

"Oh, I know. But I think that has a lot more to do with that they'd believe anything you told them."

*

Walker turned on the light, looking around. "Nice place." It wasn't.

"Yeah, uhm... There are clothes in the wardrobe that should fit you. And I stocked the fridge two days ago." Ethan trailed off.

"Okay. I'll go take a shower." Walker started stripping of his clothes that he'd already worn during the raid.

Ethan just stood there and watched. It had been over a year since he'd last seen Walker on more than a photo. Three years since Kashmir. Walker still looked like he remembered him. No new scars on his body (not that leading a criminal organization required a lot of fighting). The scar on his face looked shallower and less red.

Ethan went into the kitchen after Walker had left for the bathroom and started preparing something resembling dinner.

When Walker came back he was wearing a grey T-shirt and sweatpants. "So, what're we having?"

*

Walker stood in the doorway to the bedroom, hands in his pockets. "So?"

"So?" Ethan returned with a small smile.

Walker met his gaze steadily. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to."

Ethan took the steps towards him in a few quick strides. It wasn't strange, or like they had to get used to each other again. They'd never really gotten used to each other in the first place. And anyway, they were both more the think-as-you-go kind of guys. So no, it wasn't strange. It was oddly calming. Ethan hadn't realised how glad he was that Walker was back, that he was something like safe.

They'd talked to each other a lot over the years. He knew he was the only one Walker actually talked to, could talk to. And somehow, in these calls that never officially happened, Ethan had found himself saying things too. Things he never told anyone. Not his friends, not Julia, not even Ilsa. Maybe it was different, talking to a disembodied voice, to a man who didn't even have his identity any longer. But now that man was very physical again, under his hands, and it was still easy to talk to him.

He touched his hand to the right side of Walker's face, tracing where the less angry red lines framed the right side of his face. "It looks better."

"Time." Walker replied with a small smile. "And laser surgery."

*

"Woah, slow down on the coffee! The how manyth cup is that this morning?"

"Seriously, Ethan?" Walker gave him an incredulous and slightly on-edge look. "That's hardly the worst we do to our bodies. I can't even remember how many unregistered drugs I've taken for the job in my life. And you worry about coffee?" There was a slight tremor to his hands as he poured the newest cup. "By the way, don't you have anywhere to be? Don't you have missions?"

Ethan smiled wrily. "Right now you're the mission. And didn't you say yourself it was nice to get away from everything for a bit?"

Walker glared at him. "That was two weeks ago. Now it's just nerve wrecking. And seriously when have you ever waited, Ethan?"

"I once waited for six months for the government to realise I'm innocent." Ethan said with a quirk of a smile.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you just sat on your ass and patiently waited for them to exonerate you."

"I could think of other things to do with your ass." Ethan said just to get at least a snort out of the other.

Walker raised an imperious eyebrow. "Really? Yesterday, sex would have been a good idea. Today I'd prefer to punch you in the face."

"I guess we can do that too, unless we're so loud the neighbors call the cops."

Thirty minutes and meticulously pushed aside funiture later, surprisingly much had still gone crash. But that was expected. He and Walker were incapable of fighting without things getting nasty. Ethan had to admit, though, as he was nursing his sore jaw, that it had been refreshing as opposed to the mind-numbing monotony of waiting. And doing push-ups in the makeshift gym just wasn't the same.

*

"Agent Brandt." Walker greeted. "Or I guess it's Mr Secretary now. Did Ethan pass on my congratulations? What brings you to my humble abode?"

"If at all it's the IMF's humble abode. As to what brings me here. It's safer for me to leave the house than it is for you. I've come here to... If Ethan after three years still assumes you're innocent, I can assume with probability bordering on certainty that you are in fact innocent. And I personally am no stranger to doing the morally ambiguous for the greater good. So I think I owe you the truth, as long as Ethan isn't here. I cannot promise you that we'll get you out of this. I'll try my best. But I simply can't. I can't even operate out in the open while trying to clear your name. If I wanted to do that we'd have to go on record and put you in prison. So right now I'm working on it, but my priority is protecting my own team. Because If it comes out we're hiding you, we're all going to prison."

"I know. I appreciate what you're doing."

*

Walker looked at him angrily. "I don't want you to repeat your fucking therapeutic feel-good mantras at me. I want you to fuck me."

And Ethan did. Hard. Taking advantage of all the things their bodies could take. Just like with the fighting, here it was good too, to for once have a match. And he understood. He understood how Walker was feeling right now. They were the guys who saved the world, they weren't the ones who stood by and waited. So, to them, the waiting was the hardest part.

Afterwards they lay beside each other. Ethan knew August did not want to hear his words of reassurance. Still he couldn't help himself. "It's going to be okay." he said, knuckles of his fingers gently grazing along Walker's flank.

"Is it? I have a feeling this time I'm going to be collateral."

"I'm not going to let that happen."

"Going to save me this time, Hunt?"

"You bet on it."

"Well, it'll be a step down from saving the world."

*

Walker rubbed his face, wearily, exasperated. "I'm not going to die as Fucking John Lark." He rubbed his face more aggressively. "That fucking bitch. That bitch. How could she let herself get killed? After everything she did to me, she had to leave me out here." Ethan grabbed his hand now, stopping the fingers from digging into the scars. "Do you realise," Walker said as if he didn't even notice Ethan holding his hand. "That if you hadn't fucked up my mission in Kashmir, there would be no one left to corraborate my story? And I would be fucked. More fucked than I already am. Then I could just fucking eat my gun. Or spend the rest of my days hiding. Or maybe just become John Lark for real, as a big fuck you to all my friends in the CIA." His laugh was ugly and hollow.

"Hey. Hey." Ethan put a hand in Walker's neck, where he crouched in front of the other's hunched-over form. "It's okay."

Walker didn't even look at him, looked somewhere entirely else, not even in this room. "Sometimes everything you do matters, every single second, every decision. And then suddenly nothing you do matters and you can just sit back and wait, because nothing would make a difference."

"True. Waiting sucks. It's hard when you have to wait for someone else to save the world." He tried for a little grin.

"Tell me... How does it feel to have a team that's always there? To know there's always someone you can count on."

"You are not alone in this." Ethan emphazised.

"I counted on Sloane. Not to have my back. Just to.... Still be there." The snort was weary and disillusioned. "I wonder, is it compulsive that you always need to save everyone?"

Ethan snorted. "Yep, it is."

"I think you were supposed to tell me now that I'm special." Walker commented sardonically.

"I don't think you need anyone to tell you you're special."

Walker snorted weakly. "No, I don't. Hey, Hunt..."

"Hm?"

"... Nevermind." Walker lifted his large frame off the chair and walked away. Ethan felt the physical loss as their hands disconnected.

*

"Are you still doing Origami?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

Ethan held out a package of colored paper, almost sheepishly. "I got this when I went out shopping."

The frown on Walker's face could have been touched, uncomfortable or annoyed, as he took the package from Ethan, brows drawn together.

"What's that?" Ethan asked, later, pointing at one of the creations littering table and floor, that Walker had spent the last three hours straight, folding with bordering-on-obsessive and rather sinister determination, with the same precision with which he assembled a gun.

"One of my own designs." Walker replied without looking up from his recent object. "Crane with semi-automatic gun."

"Wow, I can actually see it." Ethan looked closer. "That's quite accurate."

*

Benji came in. "So, Will wanted me to tell you–" He stopped there, staring at where the door to bedroom was open. "Uh... Oh... Is he... You know there's a second bedroom?"

"Yes. We know." Ethan shut the door. "Let him sleep."

"Are you?... Are you guys?... Is this another Ilsa situation?"

Ethan frowned self-consciously. "It's not an Ilsa-situation... What's an Ilsa-situation?"

Benji stared at him flabbergasted. "You don't honestly want me to explain the Ilsa-situation to you? You invented the Ilsa-situation."

"Benji..." Ethan rubbed his forehead. "What did you want?"

"So–"

"What's going on?" Walker had stepped beside Ethan, barefoot, still only in a pair of sweatpants, his voice rapsy from sleep.

Ethan automatically reached out a hand, their fingers brushing against each other.

"Well," Benji started again. "Will wants to speak to you guys."

"I'll get dressed." Walker muttered without inflection.

As he'd turned around, Benji started to wildly mouth something that looked vaguely supportive and definitely excited. Ethan only gave him a slightly bewildered thumbs-up and got two more in return.

*

"So... The good thing is," Will started. "that his identity was never actually leaked to the public or other international agencies. Otherwise there would have been no way in hell they'd have ever exonerated him. As it is, I just had to handle it internally."

"So, how'd you do that?"

"After going over every piece of paper, phone call and video Sloane ever made... I faked a paper trail corraborating Walker's story."

"What?!"

"I faked it really well." Will shrugged.

"They'll... they'll go over these documents really meticulously..." Ethan warned.

"Yeah, well." Will made a face. "I'm not just a better field agent than you, Ethan. I'm also a better analyst than Benji."

Beside Ethan, Walker snorted. "I like him." He jabbed Ethan in the side. "With that guy I wouldn't have messed."


End file.
